whoisniki

Every Ship Must Sail Away...

2012-01-17T09:44:00.002-05:00

There is a kid I can see. Holding a torn teddy bear in his hands and with teary eyes. He stands forlorn and staring up at the sky.

I am the kid looking at the sky. I am the emptiness staring back...

PS: The title from the Blue Merle song of the same name

64 years later: A tryst forgotten

2011-08-14T18:17:00.005-04:00

A was a monk, I was a monkey. I sat on the floor, listening to A talk about his travels as a boy. He spoke of how he once accompanied an old man to see the Parliament house in New Delhi. As a young man A stood staring rather unimpressed at the behemoth of a building, while the old man sat and stared .When it was time to leave the old man, with tears, bent down and touched the walls to his eyes and smiled. A asked the old man why he would do that to place that is not a temple. The old man told him, "Because I know the price we paid for it".
I have never seen the Parliament House myself. Never been to Delhi and its been years since I heard the story. But I never forgot what the old man told A. I was 13 at the time I heard the tale and Freedom was won a few decades ago and India was opening itself to the world before I was 10. I knew nothing of the price that was paid or of how it was won. But I knew I had to find out.
***
I remember only vaguely conversations with my grandpa. The evenings were time for Ramayana and Mahabharata which he told in bits as he sat outside in his veranda. Always indulgent of me for forgetting where we stopped the previous evening he told me tales I was only too happy to hear. One of those days he talked of when Mahatma Gandhi came travelling south. I knew Gandhi as an old man and the "Father of our Nation" but as a kid, I was in awe that grandpa had seen the man alive. When he traveled through grandpa's village, Gandhi met some women one of who brought her young son along. Gandhi took the child in his arms as he spoke to the people. That child was my grandpa. I could see the pride and joy as he told me this. I never understood why he was happy, but realized Gandhi must've been something that grandpa was so proud just to be touched by him.
***
Many years later I went to visit a paternal grandfather. He was old and hard of hearing but very happy to see me. As I walked around his old house, I noticed an old ,blackened scabbard hung in a dark corner of the roof long forgotten in its place. I was curious so I asked to see it and took it down. It was a long "samurai" sword. With Japanese (I know now) inscription on the blade. I love antiques and this was quite something. I took it back to him and asked him about it.
As a young kid, he told me, he fought for the British Indian Army. The raging World War II had brought the Imperial Armies of Japan conquering over China to the footsteps of India. The British Empire was being shaken at its roots. The freedom movement was now more than a nuisance. Netaji Subhash Bose had shown the path of war even as the Mahatma struck deep with nonviolence. The army that went to face the Japanese in Burma had this grandfather of mine. They fought in the day. At night, he said, the kids took water and went to the dead and dying. It was one such Japanese soldier to who grandpa gave the his last draught of water, who gratefully gave him the sword I held in my hands.
***
Was Gandhi god? Was my grandfather a traitor for fighting for the British? The British gave us the English language to communicate, the railways to travel and united the country. What then was the "price" we had to pay? Didnt we gain more?
Over my 25 years, I have been through different phases. For a long time I hated Gandhi, for I thought we had to fight the British out. Later I hated him for not bartering the freedom movement to save Bhagat Singh's life. I hated that Nehru didnt allow General Thimmaiah to occupy Pakistan when war broke out over Kashmir soon after Independence. I hated Nehru for Socialism. And bloody much everything for some reason or the other. But I can credit to myself, the good sense to seek some answers I knew weren't in the books. Thats how I read my history.

History is only a record. The interpretation is always ours. Its not the broad strokes of a sketch but a fine tapestry of many stories. The colors of individual strands dont matter the patterns they make do.

I have friends who believe all Muslims must be bombed out. The same people who played and went to school with Muslim classmates. I know people who believe we were better under the British, the same people who read the same textbooks like me about the Great Bengal Famine of 1943 or Jallianwala Bagh. Or of things they didn't read about like the court hearings of the Indian National Army which never came on the news but resluted in all tried being hanged. Then there are the most prolific of them all. The cynics who believe nothing will ever change in our country. And what do I say to you? Think of anyone you know who has nothing to eat. Anyone you know personally. The number is so small if any. Am not saying poverty is absent or that its gone down. But that our own lives have improved so much and given we are the great Indian middle class, that's a big number. And for a country that started with no economic backbone of modern agriculture nor industry that is a big achievement. For a country which Churchill said would go to the dogs and rascals to survive as a democracy is an achievement.

Most of you have heard of Nehru's Tryst with destiny speech. Not very many of you would have gone beyond the first line of it. I suggest you do. I did today. And you will see whats wrong today. Its so easy to say the government and our system failed us. I think We failed ourselves, when a generation later we forgot to take up the mantle. As Nehru said, "The achievement we celebrate today is but a step, an opening of opportunity, to the greater triumphs and achievements that await us".

Further he says:
The future beckons to us. Whither do we go and what shall be our endeavour? To bring freedom and opportunity to the common man, to the peasants and workers of India; to fight and end poverty and ignorance and disease; to build up a prosperous, democratic and progressive nation, and to create social, economic and political institutions which will ensure justice and fullness of life to every man and woman.
We have hard work ahead. There is no resting for any one of us till we redeem our pledge in full, till we make all the people of India what destiny intended them to be.

We are citizens of a great country, on the verge of bold advance, and we have to live up to that high standard. All of us, to whatever religion we may belong, are equally the children of India with equal rights, privileges and obligations. We cannot encourage communalism or narrow-mindedness, for no nation can be great whose people are narrow in thought or in action."

Our freedom didnt come free- it was paid for with the lives and blood of men and women most nameless and forgotten who believed what they won for us, we would take in our hands and build upon. What we have instead is us. Cynicism, that nothing will change is only an excuse for doing nothing. Even believing something will and can be changed is a massive momentum for something good. But I am no saint nor do I lay claim to a pulpit.

All I ask of ones that can think is to read and understand our history. To search for stories, to know the unknown kids who fought invading armies and of little kids that were touched by great men. To look for why your grandfather was such a steadfast and incorruptible man. Or of why your grandmother's family didnt cook for a day when Gandhi was shot.

We as a generation some say, are this way for we have no wars to fight. I don't agree, we do. I know people who fight against poverty and for education, to deliver rights to the underprivileged and many things more. Its just that we havent chosen our battle. We lack as I say a sense of history. An understanding that the men you see in the videos of freedom riots came there not for destiny, not for philosophy or for blood lust, but simply because they believed they could change something. The kid who joined the army only wanted to feed his poor and ailing parents. The hunger chose which side he was on. The old man at the Parliament house saw not grand institution, nor a lofty ideal but the blood of so many he knew. The only promise that that wouldn't occur again, was what the building stood for. Its easy to live a life for your own need and greed, but use your life as a chip to bargain the freedom of a nation, (while knowing he could be killed and the movement crushed with force) was why the baby was so proud of being held by Gandhi. It was also his claim to fame.

History, our own that is, is as much a note of philosophy as it is of little personal choices. Most of those who fought didn't choose freedom struggle as a career. And almost all of them struggled to feed their families through it. Some bunked classes to go join a protest and died. We have much better circumstances today. All we have to do is pause a moment and think.What you see around you is history being made. We are the history and we and we alone are the future.

"And to India, our much-loved motherland, the ancient, the eternal and the ever-new, we pay our reverent homage and we bind ourselves afresh to her service. Jai Hind"

PS: The quotes in red are from "Tryst with destiny", delivered to the Constituent Assembly Midnight of August 14-15th, 1947.
http://www.guardian.co.uk/theguardian/2007/may/01/greatspeeches

Image of NY Times cover of Aug 15. http://tv.nytimes.com/learning/general/specials/india/front-page.gif.html

Framing A Rabbit.

2011-01-02T20:41:00.004-05:00

From several years ago, I remember a call from my aunt. I was a kid then, the young kind where your mom chooses your clothes, combs your hair neatly in what she thinks is a hairstyle, the kind that all ladies kiss on the cheeks and give candies to.The age, when you are the cute kid everyone "oooh"s and "aaah"s about but never take seriously. (I would demand better a "hairstyle" and to wear pants all the time, if they would :P), the age when your "conversation" on the phone was always a perfunctory "Is mommy there?" or a conversational equivalent of a doodle, in pointless inquiries about school and homework. This is why I remember this call so well. My aunt asked for Me. I walk uncertainly to the phone for another charade, but what she told me was what would for almost any kid, be a dream come true.

She told me how her neighbor had trapped two rabbits on his farm and she had picked them up for me. I can't remember what I thought just then. It must have felt like it rained Cadburys or that I was on a Streethawk (90's kids who watched DD will probably remember) but what was more brain numbing was by divine conspiracy, I didn't have to ask mom's permission. Next thing I remember, going to her place to pick it up a few days later.

She told me one of them had been snatched by a neighborhood dog, but one rabbit is more than a child's dream. An unseen rabbit now dead, barely registered. I remember tumbling all over her house to make a shoe box cage for it so I could take it home. I put in some grass, wanted to have a glass of water (but some "adult" promptly reminded me it would spill over in the bus) I made holes for air. A bigger one for it to see out. Another for me to see it (I know you can use the same hole to see it and it to see me, but I was a kid remember?! If you were that smart, why didn't u get a rabbit? :D)

In the bus, I kept the box on my lap all the time, peering in from time to time. You see I had tried to bring fishes from the village river home in a water bottle many times before. But they always died, thankfully the soft furred black and white rabbit didn't. (Though even now when I see fish I want to catch them in a bottle and take them home.)The rabbit stared back not at all appreciative of bumping around in a shoe-box, maybe it didn't think of its accommodation as a room with a view (the hole I cut in the box) with plenty of free food(grass). Any chap in a hostel could teach it a lesson or two about being appreciative of little things but the chances are they are more likely to appreciate rabbit on a plate than a box. Anyway, almost at the stop when we were to get off, the curious conductor comes over and asks "Whats in the box?". I shyly tell him "A rabbit" .He smiles down at me and tells me we aren't allowed to bring animals on a bus. I think I am almost home, my moms scary and and all people that smile cant be bad, so what can he do? He did nothing of course, but not many years I later I would rudely come to realize, a smiling face is often the guise of the darkest of people.

Anyway story mein twist. All along I forgot to tell you we had two dogs at home. The gentle Timmy which mom had "cultured" almost like a brother to me and the the street kid Tommy, which was had no inclinations what so ever to domestication. And my little sister who was just too little to be included in this story, suffice to say she was the little girl with two braids that patted the rabbit two times a day (talk of adults not taking kids seriously :P). The dogs used the rabbit as hunting practice. Timmy was cultured so he barked, Tommy jumped and chased and always tried to grab a bite, if not for the rabbit getting too deep into the rose bushes. You see this twist was too much to be solved any way easily. We had to keep the rabbit inside the house all day and then take him out two times a day. I tied a string around his neck and would walk him! I let go of the string when the dogs came attacking was how he survived as long as he did, me holding on would have been feeding the dogs rabbit on a string.

This went on a while till mom decided enough was enough and gave away the rabbit to the neighbors' maid. As always I wasn't important enough that the decision considered my opinions. I dared not to vehemently oppose my parents, so he went. They had him in a nice cage that was formerly occupied by the hulk of a dog Toofan. I doubt if the rabbit was any more appreciative of this accommodation than he was of the box I brought him in. This was like you living in an indoor stadium, spacious, yes but not much of anything else. Not long after it went form there to someone else, and though I lost track, sooner or later to someone's plate. I remember a heaviness when I heard they had given it away. Much more than I felt when we gave it away. It was now gone.As a child you believe you can help things you can see, like an ant in the water. Its only when you grow up that you realize bringing yourself to care enough to help is more effort than to help itself.

And thus he went away. With never a word said. I hadn't christened him like I had Timmy and Tommy (by whispering in their ears their names, three times, Like it was done to me.) I should've I think now. "Would it matter?" the present me asks. Perhaps not. But at least it would acknowledge his presence. The little black and white thing that my cousin held up by its ears once. It was unimaginably cruel I thought, (mortally afraid that its ears would tear off) but he neither screamed nor protested (don't know if a rabbit makes any noise at all, he never did!), he just hung limply in the air, paws in front and its front teeth showing, the famous "bunny teeth".

Its been years now. Timmy has since passed, Tommy is now a venerable nonagenarian at home, the successor, the black beauty(the other two were biscuit brown) of a devil Terry has disappeared. I even had a nameless Tortoise (Pronounced "Tortis" as I was "instructed" recently) and a nameless pig in between. Both me and my sister are now adults ourselves. And time has rolled on, bringing with it the tribulations of life and academics.

But here I am remembering a nameless beast. I remember him hanging by its ear from my cousins arm. The paws in front, not twitching, not trying to escape but giving ( perhaps wholly impossible at such a time) a grin.

The image lingers. I wonder what he must've felt. In a lonely world, with animals baying for his blood. Others too busy in their own worlds to care, while the ones that did were a little too dumb to see the truth of his existence. The helplessness of having no escape and the sad reality of being bound to follow someone else's choices. All while just a few scampering steps away was the bush and the forest that was freedom. I wonder what he must've felt.

You don't know. Or do You?

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------Image: from www.quizilla.teennick.com through Ggoogle.

Twenty Four

2010-09-13T23:16:00.001-04:00

Its exactly midnight. I'm walking towards a brightly lit store, that stands braving the raging darkness around it in stoic neon and lifeless white fluorescent light. The roads that usually buzz with life, now remain a feeble excuse of an urban artery, with a few late nighters flitting across town, some rushing to places they want to reach and others away places they dont want to. The silence around is natural to the lateness of the hour,when even the usual sounds of life seek to hide in the darkness. Its after all the eternal charm of the night,a seeming conspiracy of life to help one hide and be hidden. And I am in the midst of it.

I look at my watch.

Oh! I didn't notice the few minutes thats gone by after midnight.Not that I care,but still. I pause a moment. I sigh. I need a minute.

A minute to cry for the depths I had been in. A minute to gaze at where I can go. To the many words that were said and the lot more that remained unsaid. To some happy moments suspended in mid air, transfixed as if by their own seeming impossibility and to many more that lie shattered on the floor. To dreams that burned into questions, to questions that fuelled hope.

You see in that moment, I turned 24.

Dedicated humbly and with immense gratitude to the following people:

to someone that thinks a rubik's cube is better unsolved as it looks beautiful
to someone that would like to date them self one day
to someone who sang me "jinke marina" by heart while holding my hand
to someone with perspective
to someone like a rock
to someone for many long chats on FB and refreshing candor
to someone for the 1 30 am happy bday call
to someone for two memorable late night chats
to someone for infectious optimism

2010-08-29T21:37:00.001-04:00

There is a crazy pain in writing a post. Much as one might want to blog regularly, there is little in the mundane life of a directionless, single guy that can interest his lot insanely hip and happening friends (!!). But the few that read my blog,out of sheer boredom (like many have shamelessly told me on my face) or driven by desperation to get rid of my pestering, do tell me am a jewel of the blogosphere, more like cubic zirconia I suppose, but whatever.

One implicit requirement of a blog is that the blog be funny if not hilarious. And since somehow people construe blogs to be precise reflections of their authors, a funny blog means a funny author. Sadly I am not a funny person. I mean if you put me in a room with mirrors on all 4 walls and watch me for hours I might do something funny, but the chances that you will end up ROFl is almost the same as I will be dating Niki Hilton (Paris you see gets too much attention as it is :P)

Wait! I almost made it seem like I have no sense of humor. Wrong. I do. Actually better than most. The trouble is its tuned differently from yours (by which I mean muggles, sri saamanyas, the common men etc etc). I wouldn't try to be funny but my humor much like my sarcasm is an acquired taste. But thats not accepting defeat. Not yet.

The last 3 months have been bad. In many ways it was predictable where I was headed but I'm sitting here alive and kicking (well not literally, figuratively only ok!) is proof maybe I won a battle. And seriously now I need some smiles myself. To escape sheer boredom that gnaws into my being I might write more regularly and out of spite for all of you, I might try to be funny ;).

Bear with me. (u got that? Didn't think so :| )

Songs from beyond the graves..

2010-05-22T21:16:00.003-04:00

Did it ever happen to you? You stand there, brushing your teeth like every other day and you suddenly look up at the mirror and don't recognize the person staring back? Yes, the idiot with a tooth brush in his mouth, drooling tooth paste. Have you ever wondered when, the kid who when he stood at the sink, couldn't reach the tap, now has to stoop down to it? From the time, when your mom had to slap your cheeks for swallowing toothpaste to the time you don't remember what your toothpaste tastes like?

Physical growth maybe gradual, but mental is instantaneous. You noticed that no matter what, your new pants, in weeks were dangling over your ankles. All of a sudden, you had hair growing on your face. Your voice in which you sang in competitions or at the school prayer is now too jarring even to your indulgent mom!.But picture this. Once, if you laid your hand on a rupee. it was your happiest day. To choose a candy, from the many glass jars perched so high on the shop shelf, you couldn't even reach, by pointing and correcting the dumb shopkeeper who could never get it right, peering over the top? Look in your wallet now and you have a few thousand times that single coin, but a perhaps a millionth of the excitement of what you could do with it. When did that happen? Remember the time when you thought when you "became big" you would earn a lot of money? When lakhs, millions were so huge that you spread your arms while talking about it? Yes, that time when countless was the greatest number you could think of? Now ask yourself what you earn. A lakh is still a lakh, so have your pockets grown bigger?

There was a time, when you wrote copy-writing religiously. 100 page notebooks with a 4 lined one for English, 2 lined one for Kannada and 3 lined one for Hindi and your teach rapping your knuckles for not starting at the margin? And now day in and day out, all you can think is how much "margin" you can make? From the time, when coming home was so perfunctory a ritual, as dashing in the door, throwing off your bag and dashing out to waiting friends, to now, when you slump in, slump around and collapse in bed (often at times you once thought only scary ghosts walked around at).When at breakfast,lunch or dinner someone had to shush you from your non stop banter about your day to lonely meals in front of your computer,TV or paper?

And Doink!! just as suddenly you realize you have been day dreaming again. The paste is burning in your mouth and you hurriedly look away and wash up and run out. Another day has begun and someone else has started off before you.

In growing up, nothing really changes. We still continue to think bigger is better, more is merrier but its the objects we think about that change. The "definitions" that "evolve" to match our age or better say to "conform" to what is "expected of our age".Its not that the world gets any harsher when we grow up (your dog died painfully remember?). Its just that we mentally begin to "accept" the world as harsh. Its no more, that another kid is one more to play with, its one more you are competing against.

A long ago Kaundi mentioned a book. I didn't care much, but the name stuck on "Dreams Die First"..Really? We all would want to say yes(shifts the blame off us you see). As kids we wanted to be doctors and rocket pilots and superman but we now so contently disappear in a cubicle farm. Once, we thought when you grow up, you still would have all those same friends around.Now you procrastinate months or years in calling them or hide from them should you spot them on the street.

Somewhere down the answers are there. In all I pointed out, you know the happiness you once had, but when you look away, you know you want to go back to your job soon. You might correct me and say you "have to" and I pragmatically would agree. I am in the same rut as you are,I'm not talking down to you, I'm not pontificating.I'm telling you. I'm telling you like that old wily friend who taught you your first "bad" word.

Dreams don't die first, we only bury them alive. And God! do we bury them too soon.

They sing from beyond the graves, when you help up a kid to to wash his hands at the sink.When you cover their copy books in brown papers and stick labels with Popeye and Olive Oyl on them . When the lion roars and "Tom and Jerry" comes on the screen. When with your Vodka, you talk of the old bottles of king size Torino. When you handout a Cadbury bar and see the little eyes widen and a smile break out.

And you know what is happening, for you have been there. You have stood and looked up at the world in wonder and stood there and looked down at the world in condescension. And in between the two you know. You have realized.You have accepted although silently that,

Dreams don't die first, we only bury them alive.But they live on... and sing from beyond the grave...

The Many Faces of Whats Between My Ears

2010-05-16T10:35:00.000-04:00

I don't know what to do. Its been a year since I saw her or her kind. I'm brushing my teeth and she floats across effortlessly. A mosquito! In the USA! in my apartment! unbelievable. She sits gingerly on the mirror, the reflection shows a beauty spot on the nose of my cuter-than-a-hippo face. And there I stand and look on. To swat or not to swat, that is the question.
The Floridan sun beats down on a summer noon and I'm lost in thoughts.I have 3 movie DVDs in my hand I'm reading the covers of. The bus arrives, i walk without looking up. There are people waiting, I look up and I see a perfect eyebrow lifted just a hint of a millimeter above normal.Glinting hazel eyes. A wisp of smile on the I-can't -ever describe-in-words lips. the head turns away and she comes in front of me. Her long flowing hair shines in the sun, it gorgeous curls flow down to her waist. I take long appraising look and she's walks in and I follow and take a seat. I don't have eyes on the back of my head but feel her sitting in the seat behind me. Suddenly I think, she jumped the queue! And I'm on earth,again.
I talk to a friend who is madly in love.His happiness so infectious that I kept running around happily the entire day after that. Then I look into myself and what I feel is a tinge of jealousy. Envy perhaps. Its not the girl, it is the providence that favored him and the happiness divine in every description and passed me up.
An email from a friend reads :"Why does it seem to me like your 'How r u?'s come instead of a hundred other questions?A question in disguise."I sit and wonder whether to laugh or cry.
I am holed up at home since days and all the days of solitary confinement in getting to me. I decide to cook. I google for gajar ka halwa and start off. It boils and evaporates and I sing along with the radio and cook on. I keep stirring and then suddenly like magic it has the consistency. Its not sticking to the pan anymore. I take a forkful and taste it and it feels awesome.It tastes better than anything I have eaten and my thought is how best can i photograph this.

This video is in many ways similar to what is me. The kid and his toys sadly are all in my head. And every day, every minute and with every thought I wonder "what the F*** am I?"

2010-04-13T13:58:00.001-04:00

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Chullu Bhar Pani Me Doob Marna!

2010-03-28T18:44:00.000-04:00

My favorite blog is perhaps Sheryll's http://myadorablepancreas.blogspot.com/. Its a delight to read, a rush of sunshine when life is ominously on rough weather. Today I read on her blog, what is perhaps the most powerful bit writing around.

Hemingway’s six word short story – “For sale: Baby shoes. Never used”.

This is what I compete against when I write. This is the gold standard (cliche I know) of what writing can do. Now I have attempted always to make my posts a picture of reality. Somewhere in keeping my blog alive and wanting it to be read by many, I think I made my last post sensational. Looking back on all the comments and emails I got, embarrassment is all thats left.

Long long ago in class 10 "B", the class was in an uproar. With no teacher in class and time to spare, everyone screamed and talked. Somewhere in that chaos, I heard Shreyank say "chullu bhar pani me doob marna". The very first time I heard that expression.And i love it.And today when I look at the comments on my last post that is precisely how I feel.

That post like many before it, wasn't suicidal.It was a dark and sarcastic take on myself. Its rather easy to picture the world that way,most of us unconsciously do, but we somehow in our own minds are always the wronged.I for one wanted to paint my worries and dissatisfactions in a context of my own reasons and not that I was held back by someone, or that chance was favoring someone else.

Now, about the suggestion about finding a "companion" I agree with Jayanth, about trading all ur problems in life for one that walks around. Sirs, Thats not the solution, quite simply since you got the problem wrong. As Dr Hahn told me about my exam, "When you read the question wrong, you're solving the wrong problem!".

But that said, the overwhelming sentiment right now is "Chullu Bhar Pani Me Doob Marna!"

The Pursuit of Happ"I"ness

2010-03-18T18:16:00.002-04:00

Over the last 7 months, I left behind everything I had known and embarked on a journey of a lifetime (forgive the theatrics here but air-travel is fucking expensive and the official process of getting here, crazy and if the precedent of many Indians who came west is anything to go by, it is for most people a one way journey). In this time it is expected of me as a blogger to have painted rosy pictures of America, populate facebook with grand pics of all I have done. Instead all I have done is be sentimental almost suicidal, write no posts and post pics of nothing that sets stuff on fire!

Humph! Now I hear you saying "Tch-Tch boy but u were never the type to do anything of that!". Yes I agree. Over the years, I have grown more and more shy and depressive and its been steady downhill after coming here. I stand and stare the rising spire of the university tower as it tolls the passing hours and wonder what was I thinking. Who in the their sane mind leaves a paying job to come into a torture chamber! What madness can make one take another course of Thermodynamics after sitting through one in undergrad! (actually its fun, I topped the class in the mid term). And the whole deal about research interest and urge to learn through many days without a shower and a snack and sleepless nights was never my forte.And this is the place that kicks you really hard and keeps on kicking if you, even for a second, doubt yourself. I'm pasted on the ground right now.

In every journey you make, your only real companion is yourself.The One, who hears your thoughts before you word them politely or censor the sarcasm or tone down the honesty.And when you make a long journey like this, anyone who has traveled with a bad companion will attest, the vibes must be perfect,good wont just do. I disagree with almost everything about the world right now and vehemently so. Dad once famously observed "why are you so angry about everything?". That did enough for me to shut up then, but thats true. I am, I figured, so angry about everything because I'm angry with myself. So i have the work cut out for me, "swalpa adjust madkoli" with my own life and more importantly what I am.

Easy to say,impossible to do. My problems are many and it quite simply begins with this one. I don't think I'm an ordinary person.Not that I am extraordinary, but that just I think, I am, well, not ordinary. Its like when people speak of the common man or the lay man in literature (mind you, this is grad student speak so literature= papers published in respected peer-reviewed journals and cited umpteen times in umpteen other papers in other similar journals), we think he doesn't know anything, that he is stupid to the stupidest degree one can think but without of course saying so.The inherent hypocrisy being, that your audience belongs to that class while you yourself, are divinely ordained to be out of it.Rather amazingly I realise, everyone thinks about themselves this way.

Anyway back to my laundry list of woes, now I think im not-ordinary, so my problems can't be solved by ordinary people (duh!) so don't you dare say why don't we talk about it.

That leaves two people who I can talk to. Myself and God. God apparently is on vacation, but he's been away so long it seems he's landed in Guantanamo bay. So the good Me remains, but whats the use of talking to someone who has the same problem? I mean not "similar" problem but the "same" problem. scratch scratch.

So I'm left with many many problems and not one of them related to mechanical engineering so I cant do a damn PhD!

So here is yours truly, angry,bitter,confused, depressed,empty,frustrated,grumpy,hard-headed,irritated,... bah! its tiring to go on for every letter of the alphabet.I have to start at A and come fast to remember what letter comes after what.

Unbelievably this is my life, can you believe it?. I'm sure you can.

PS: praise the pointlessness of this post.
PPS: It might appear I have developed the traits of a former roommate, but thats a whole possibility I myself wouldn't discount.

"my dear Niki"

2009-10-16T19:18:00.004-04:00

When you walk out on a life where you had everything but the appreciation for it, your only companion in the journey ahead is loneliness. Accepted as inevitable or masterfully hidden, anyone who has come a world away, lives two lives. Emotionally in the past world and physically in the new.And nothing ever comes close to bridge the two and make them one.

Just now i got a letter in the mail. An insignificant khaki envelope, with the same characteristic messed up hand. It even misspells USA as United state of Ammerica. Its me the cynic speaking this. I can see all the mistakes in grammar, the poor language and i remember all the screaming and misunderstandings, the tears and harsh words.

For all that time has brought upon us, it begins :"my dear Niki", and i sit here with tear in my eye. the sadness of how callous I've been and the magnanimity in writing those words.

Solitude in Silence

2009-10-11T19:47:00.002-04:00

For once, i hope i don't have speak, to be heard. That you saw there were words, i couldn't say, but held in my eyes for you to know. But in the moment that mattered i looked away, and the words just were lost in the silence of all things unsaid.

For once, i hope i don't have to speak a word. that you saw there was a silence between us, that said it better than all words i had. That when the time came, i just didn't know what to choose. And pain of all things left undone just seared into my flesh.

For once i wish you didn't hear what i said, in the crashing rage of an ocean's storm, that killed the song, so just the music could go on.

Now in the silence of all things lost, i wonder if it was worth what i gained. If the moment past was just my last.

In the silence of all things i got, if it was what i wanted.If in the silence there is a song. That in the silence, i finally find the solitude i seek.

And i still wonder.

In defence of the "Indefensible"

2009-06-19T07:07:00.011-04:00

I'm always asked the same questions. Someone older always asks what i do, others ask how i spend time. And no, I'm not complaining its hard.It is not. This question is insanely open ended and most times the "asker" is unconcerned of what you answer, as long as say something.Anything.

But in the answer i usually give, today i found 2 great secrets of the universe. And thats the point.

No matter how you answer it, the immutable law of the universe is that, despite what u do or don't do, time has a way of spending itself. You can just sit around all day or watch TV, live on facebook, answer mails, slog on "projects" or on certain capricious "project mates", or try to prove Einstein wrong,but at the end of the day its just that. Its the end of the day and you have spent it.

There isn't something inherently hard about this, just as long as you can prevent yourself from feeling guilty about not having spent it a "particular" way. And trust me this is hard. Somehow we all are constrained to believe, time spent in a particular way is more "worthwhile" than time spent another. Maybe its dad droning on about doing something other than watching TV, or mom screaming about cleaning your room or yourself thinking about living your life on facebook. Ever wondered what is the metric by which we pronounce watching TV, not cleaning your room, living on facebook, or reading or studying as being "worth" or "not worth" doing?

Now almost all people seem to think money is the measure of "worthiness" of things and anything that doesn't earn a monetary return is branded "idle". That chucks out facebook and its myriad quizzes, sleeping and TV and just about everything I (we?) do! So also does, going to a movie, CCD, reading a book, drawing since none of them naturally earn money but involves spending some(a lot if its CCD).

There are a rare few who use prestige/self satisfaction/self actualisation or some such abstract, hard-to-understand metric. Much as i love to say i use this, its spectacularly vague and i don't love things i don't understand. Like SETI's search for aliens , I'm yet to find, but i know there definitely are many more such standards people use to gauge what they do or justify what they did (or didn't) do depending on which side they are.

I had to preach this far, to bring in what by many (or any i think) metric remains "indefensible" and that is idleness. It doesn't earn you money, doesn't make you happy or satisfied or blah blah. Just that you have been idle and that you've spent time. despite the fact that we are taught that its a waste of a golden life, that god hates all idle people and sends them to hell and what not, there isn't yet a convincing reason why it is "indefensible". All animals live a life devoid of any discernible "purpose". People slog lifetimes in offices, in jobs they hate and wonder what good it does to him/her or to the world except that it earns you money, which you spend on things so that you can get to work tomorrow.

Now that's secret of the universe number two. There isn't a standard that decides what you do is "worthwhile" or not. So technically its all in the mind. Then why are we so afraid to say we wasted our time? why are we so afraid to waste our time? Lotsa difficult questions.

So thats the point, like the famous laws of thermodynamics or newton's motion( hahaha!) these two laws are so fundamental you could spend a life time trying to understand it. Now since I've done my bit of service to mankind by giving these two laws, lemme leave you with it. Mom's screaming somewhere, dad won't like me before the comp when he comes in and I've been on facebook all day. Lemme do something "worthwhile" and get lost.

PS: The author being unemployed only inspired the post and this isn't meant to be a justification of how he lives his life.

Results. Results. Results

2009-05-08T09:14:00.002-04:00

Dear all,

i found this while browsing for my sisters results ( i know its a day to early, but u'll probably understand). The comments are very interesting and depict rather vividly what went thru their authors minds as they wrote it. I think we can empathise with them in various degrees. Comments are welcome. if u want to check first hand i have included the link.

A word abt the comments , they were probably left by ppl who copied the previous comment and made suitable changes. Read on...

Re: 2009 puc result date

Posted by ibuzz, (2009-04-30 10:50:13)

The Pre-University Board will declare the II PUC results in the second week of May.

http://www.deccanherald.com/Content/Apr302009/scroll20090430133367.asp?section=frontpagenews [link]

Re: hiiiiiii

Posted by sara, (2009-05-02 21:04:04)

Please can u inform what date will the results be announced on websites?

Re: hello

Posted by happy, (2009-05-02 21:06:02)

what is the exat date of puc result

Re: I AM THE GREATEST MAN IN THE WORLD

Posted by GIRI KUMAR G, (2009-05-03 16:16:35)

I WILL BE ONE OF THE TOP SCORER IN KARNATAKA PUC EXAMINATION

Re: MY DETAILS

Posted by GIRI KUMAR G {GOTTIGERE}, (2009-05-03 16:39:17)

I AM AN STUDENT STUDING IN KRUPANIDHI COLLEGE . I AM
MOST POWERFULL IN MY AREA
I WILL TELL THE 2 ND PUC BOARD TO ISSUE THE RESULTS ON 8 MAY

Re: with money u can do anything

Posted by rohan kumar, (2009-05-03 21:13:25)

i am one of the richest in india.. i have given money to get very high marks. i saw a copy of my corrected paper, i got 88 in math expected only 45..

Re: Hopeless soul in the universe!

Posted by aknu, (2009-05-03 21:23:00)

I am the bestest last ranker in Karntaka! i think i will fail in all everthin including english..so pls lets all stand united and pray that the papers get burnt!! united we fail divided we pass..so pls co-operate

Re: studied hard

Posted by star, (2009-05-04 12:21:36)

i hv studied widout goin for classes n dat too in correspondence dat is widout 1st year base..
i dnt wnt to fail n i vl nt..
wen vl d results b out hell results??

Re: Commerce

Posted by Shashi kumar M, (2009-05-04 20:22:38)

I studied in mahajana p u college.it is one of top most college of MYSORE so i will also the topper of mysore like my college.

Re: puc lagey raho puc exam

Posted by Mohammed ismail, (2009-05-05 17:00:49)

hi I AM A 24 YEAR BOY I HAVE EXPRIANCE OF 4 YEAR OF PUC BUT I AM FAILURE STUDENT IN MATHS PLEASE PRAY FOR ME I HOPE THIS TIME I WILL BE PASSED INSHA ALLAH AAAMIN

Re: maths

Posted by sumalatha.v., (2009-05-06 10:37:20)

hi i am suma i had 1yr experience in puc but my tuff subject is maths piz pray for me all off them

Re: Maths

Posted by vinothkumar, (2009-05-06 11:04:31)

hi i am vinothkumar i had 2yr experience in puc but my tuff subject is maths piz pray for me all off them, i have given money to get very high marks. i saw a copy of my corrected paper

Re: God save me

Posted by Franklin macarthur, (2009-05-07 03:53:43)

I am a puc 1st year drop out, i'm writing after 6 years atlast, with 1 week of hard work, i think i may fail in accounts, i had no clue of the of the other subjects just wrote with a practical knowledge, If any one knows who can me passed, im ready to pay. Contact me on my first name dot last name@ gmail

Re: pray for me

Posted by md khan, (2009-05-07 12:27:17)

i am da student of puc & i did my exam very well so pray for me 2 b da topper.

Re:

Posted by shridhar, (2009-05-07 15:35:35)

puc results will come 9th may

Re: puc

Posted by jafu, (2009-05-07 22:16:49)

i am da student of puc i goin for classes n dat too in correspondence so please pray to god

Re: hi

Posted by rajesh, (2009-05-08 14:57:59)

im eager 2 c my girl friend result pls update soon ,buz i hav 2 celebrate ,im waiting 4 it

Re: commerce

Posted by sandeep, (2009-05-08 15:18:48)

im eager 2 c my sister-in-law result pls update soon ,buz i hav 2 celebrate ,im waiting 4 it

Re: at what time will result

Posted by pramod kumar, (2009-05-08 15:27:56)

at what time result will declare tomorrow.becoz its verry cellenging to me

Re: PUC result

Posted by Sameera Firdouse, (2009-05-08 15:37:04)

Mathematics was tough i may fail in that subject

Re: hiiiiiii dudlyyyy.......... ts s u bubby

Posted by pavithra, (2009-05-08 15:44:01)

m waitng for my rstlzzzzzzzz.........
hope for gud n congradulate 2 al my dears bst f luk

Re: Maths & phy..

Posted by Sudhakara GB, (2009-05-08 17:50:16)

i am one of the best stu.. in india.. i have given money to get very high marks. i saw a copy of my corrected paper, i got 92 in math expected only 50 below i hv studied widout goi.. for classes n dat too in correspondence dat is widout 1st year base..
i dnt wnt to fail n i vl nt..
wen vl d results b out hell results??
pl.. pray for god good marks.

Re: hai too every one

Posted by saleem, (2009-05-08 18:13:48)

my physics exam was very tuff please pray for me including u please for my result thats the only way

Re:

Posted by zuheb, (2009-05-08 18:17:46)

u al bunch of idiots... its tom at 3 30 i ll pray for u all!!! inshallah.. allah will make things work out fine....

Re: science

Posted by ateeq, (2009-05-08 18:20:00)

i m very confident about my result dat defintely i will get passed in the examination , so i dont want anyone to pray , i believe in god and god will give me the deservable ,

In Their Right places?!

2009-02-13T06:35:00.002-05:00

The post of 18-8-07, was in the drafts. Its long past now but for sentiment's sake its here....

I once wrote placement co-ord's was a thankless job....not that i needed thanks. I get a particular flavor of satisfaction from this job, i couldn't perhaps ask for more. well its been a good run this season. A good part of my class and all the so called brains "settled" with their "dream jobs"!

well i guess i need to take back my words or restate maybe- it might be thankless job but not boring. for one thing we have the rare privilege of seeing all the so called greats in their utter reality, the threadbare patchwork of ethics, intelligence,confidence,sensitivity and their lack most prominently.

the tense moments of placements shatter for some brief moments, walls we all put around ourselves...ppl's well thought disguises crash and strangely for me my own egoistical rantings, my likes and dislikes abt ppl melted.

to those ppl, whose flash of a strained smile showed me we all have our fears,

to those abt who this is but i know will never read this....

to ur tears, for showing me the reality of a getting a job...or not getting it...

to ur smiling face for showing me grit

to ur high floating egos for showing me how much a trifle our relations were...

to the archak of the little temple, for ur beatific smile every time i prayed for someone to make it through...

Thank you...

PS: life has changed in many ways for all about who this post is about. I quit. Others have found drudgery, happiness, love and life in the paths they took. The co-ord still thinks of those moments and those ppl. The temple and its archak remain.

A new set of placement co-ords have come to graduate, another batch has had its year, fear and tear.

S for Strawberries

2009-02-13T05:44:00.006-05:00

There is this place out in the garden, where i sometimes sit reading. Just a large flat stone placed low in our little yard, next to a dozen plus one rose plants. With all the plants in bloom and in the shade of the many larger plants, i soak the warm sun and sinister plots. Now its always hard to sit outside and read. I cant bring myself to do such gross injustice to nature, which is perhaps, the best written book in the world.

Among the roses plants, creeping on the ground, are a few strawberry plants. Nice little plants they are silent, to themselves, forever huddled close in gossip of the larger, brighter, taller neighbours around them. Now fortunately, my cousin who gave us this plant is a no brainier. Who else would give a year long fruiting plant with such 'demand' in the market to a bunch like us? Anyways brains or not, it finally ended up in a decrepit pot somewhere and survived and was transferred to a spacious plot where it has since spread and seeded!

Now "unemployed" as i am, i do the gardening and watering, and fussing around our large collection of plants. And given my close contact with them i always am the first to see the fruits hidden under the foliage. Now whenever i see them they are either unripe or too small or someway defective. So i let them stay there, so i can eat the bigger, better, redder ones later. Sadly that never happens! before they are how i want them, they either rot away, or i forget them too long and or grow into something hideous. In all the 5 months here, i have never eaten one from it.

Not so with the ladies of our house. Mom and sis whenever they're home always find some to munch. Bloody traitors these plants, always have something for them. (They have an uncanny resemblance to mech dept faculty, always partial to girls). Anyways, so that's the story so far,

they always get what "strawberries" they wanted and me never!

All this has left me sourer ( than usual) and redder in the face than strawberries themselves.

Then it struck me in the garden yesterday (gyan)

Dumbo that i am,i realised...

P for People, S for Strawberries.

twenty three..

2009-02-12T04:20:00.004-05:00

Do u know that crushing feeling you get when you collapse inside out? When your spent 20 years dreaming of it and when u reach it, its just a dud? Its like swallowing large spoonsful of bittergourd, or finding out the cute girl was taken by the friend who helped u make plans to magic her... not to put too fine a point on it... after a while it just doesnt feel anything because nothing is left!

In labouring through years of school I always wished life were one long vacation. When I grew up, I learnt one long vacation is called college. When I was young I was told I would understand everything when I grew up. When I felt grown up "physically" I was told I had to grow up mentally. When I was grown to be 21 when I can legally drive,vote, drink and marry I was told to stop asking that dumb question. And now at 23 I look into the mirror and tell myself " grow up kiddo, there is no such thing as understanding anything."

Once I wondered where kids come from.. now when I'm "big" enough to have my own brood I wonder how do kids come when the parents are so busy fighting each other? Once I wondered why everyone wasn't rich? Now I know the question isn't about being rich or poor but about "richer" and "poorer". Once I didn't think it necessary to "ask" to play with someone all day, now I know when somebody even reads your post you "must" say 'thank you for your time'.

And thats how I realised the hoax of it all and in turn started the domino effect on the complex arrangement of things and people called "my life". I learnt that my life so long and yours too was spent whistling at the wrong girl. That the facts of life are only as straight as Elton John.

You see when you grow up you dont understand anything better, you only understand its the wrong question ur asking. Its only in school that every question has an answer, one word or a line or a short paragraph. In life there are only questions, ones you ask ( and repent later) or the ones u keep to yourself.

Hmmm..

2008-01-28T04:02:00.000-05:00

There are somethings that go suddenly from ur life-in a bang! Most of the while it hits u hard. Some other things just fade away gradually. No noise ,no wails in mourning, just that u cant remeber when u last thought abt it.Much the same has happened to this space.i know this blog has been unupdated way too long. most of u must have buried it somewhere in memory, others like me just didnt bother. Well i got one fervent mail asking after this blog's sickness tht compells me to cudgel my withering brains to put this in.

well i believe its better to leave something unattended than attend it and mess it up. I've got enough garbage in my life that now its surprisingly hard to throw it around even..A project thats almost snake and ladders (where every snake dumps u to square one), a vacation thats feebly justifies its bloodline to fun and freetime and it goes on u know, the same sick things.

so i guess its easier now to see why this blog has no posts and i guess u must be thanking god for that....so lemme end ur pain..

Oh stray visitor,
thanx for stopping by

Who Do We Live For.....

2007-05-17T05:22:00.001-04:00

I am me,but with that I'm also some body's son,some one's brother,some body's grandson,some body's friend(not very sure of that) and then I'm placement coordinator here some volunteer there,an alumnus somewhere else..A good guy here a loafer there....I'm expected to play so many roles I'm beginning to wonder how do the more saner ones prioritise...!!
I became placement coordinator by election,i love this job though its one of the most thankless jobs around. But around the same time my sis finished school with 92%. she badly needed help and counselling to make the choices that quickly followed the results....not that she couldn't make them herself but i as her brother couldn't be with her then....She went through the worst trauma in getting A PU seat and all the time when she called i was stuck,either class,or meeting or ppt something, somewhere......
As days have gone by, I'm so beginning to wonder if there is purpose to things that we choose to do....i want to land a job soon,set out into the world but i haven't visited grandma in ages....when i call home its fine but hardly any actual talk happens.....i feel i lost a world to get something else...and now I'm neither fully here nor there......

2007-05-06T06:44:00.000-04:00

that's when he suddenly killed himself!

One fine morning I walk into college to find he's missing, and with time when he didn't return, it became obvious his course on earth had ended....

I'd known him for quite some time, but never actually been able to get myself to like him.There are people who do,there are ones who did, and there are ones who positively loathe this guy.I've been at, different times, in all these categories...

Now its a tad difficult to be seen with him.Yes, he's conscious of who he's talking to and secondly(also most importantly) its hard to talk to him for long and not get irritated. But u know when u hate a person just because u can't get yourself to like him,Your being weak.I was being weak.So i went out to his world to get a feel of him.

Feel i did get, it only humanised him for me, and i, instead of liking him, began to pity him.
With time though i consciously got myself to appreciate his qualities....quality actually...his candor...a blunt and sometimes painful honesty...

that's when suddenly he killed himself!

One fine morning i walk into to college to learn he's missing,and with time, when he didn't return it was obvious his course on earth had ended.

In all my irritation, somewhere i liked him, somewhere he was a nice person. Was Was Was Niki u missed the bus, he's gone now...

Instead of him we have a clone walking around today. I meet him almost everyday,and it never stops bothering me what went wrong with him.

His words continue, unabated either by cold nor rain nor the seething summer that beats down here.But there isn't a hint of his candor......his words have now, the purest stench of jealousy...his mind a turbulent pot of frustration....Oh!

Our encounter was brief my dear friend, but lovely. the memory of happier times will always be cherished. Should you ever come back,i'm only a call away.

Points Of View!!!!!!!!

2007-05-06T05:50:00.000-04:00

hmmm....I'm back!
(alla abhimanigaligaagi isn't my style.....)

I'm rather taken by surprise about the number of enquiries people made about my blog. only to simplify things I'll take it was caused by genuine interest. Over the days I've had many messages mails of people who read my blogs and some creative appreciation came my way..
but folks somewhere please start appreciating the blog as a work of art...its only my point of view...
I'm NOT writing for appreciation (OK not ONLY for it!)....I'd love to hear Ur point of view...i chose to write about people who are easy to identify with and chances are stacked 90:10 you know them or one such...

so long folks,
Niki

...........................................!

2007-04-15T23:53:00.000-04:00

to be silent when u ought to speak and to talk when u need to keep quiet both indicate weakness...........

Esoteric Roses!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

2007-03-18T04:51:00.000-04:00

After my Blog and my bit got scathing comments from Kaundi and Varun,its rather hard to muster the courage to come venture into it writing again!
Now Kaundi thinks this rosy-rosy background doesn't suit me.OK, if he says so, then surely doesn't suit me! but there is one thing there...it isn't(or wasn't i've changed the template,see!) rosy rosy...it was azalea-azalea. i like that flower very much,we grow it at home. but we grow it at home is never reason enough for it to be the theme of ur blog,thts what he's telling me.(aren't u?)

Coming to the great Mr Varun....he says I've chosen to be esoteric! thnx a lot bro..i learnt a new word...esoteric...meant for only a small group to understand! see i always known ur a diplomatic but this beats me even.....this is poetry....what a nice way to articulate it...i would say "crap!". The Varun says its esoteric.....

Both these remind me things i often overlook...that is, making choices sanely...when things go wrong i better hear it from Varun....u need a long time with a dictionary to understand it....and when u finally do...if u do that is....ur way too tired to feel sad! And should things go too good hear it from Kaundi... u'll feel u travelled back in time and met Aristotle...well abt the good news........................

To Varun And Nikhil,
i wanted something to write about,i found it in ur comments.

images frm dear old Google...

Anatomy of Nonsense

2007-03-07T06:45:00.001-05:00

She looked at me earnestly, she always did. She always listens to me in the best of silence any human can offer to another's life and all its travails. Now its beyond doubt that i trust her very much,a good friend I've called her often.

It wasn't easy being me that evening,at the table with a pot of sweet smelling roses.She smiled at me expectantly. I had called and asked if i could come see her,something i hadn't done despite all chances I had to.

Now all people have their own businesses,cares both real and imaginary, which they tend to, with all of life's time and energy. I wasn't one of them.Not that i hadn't any,but i spent more in others life!

She hated me for it...u see I saw through her most of the time. In all their life's businesses ppl forget that their tales needs to be touched up every now and then, and that some ppl are more intelligent than others.Most of my divinations had happened on the phone,on smses and few times in person.She was expectant I was unsure.The reasons were there, laid out before us like that red checked tablecloth..One wants her secrets to be not too easy..the other wants his to be!

Its always difficult to start but I did for this was my own song..I had told it so many, so many times. All had given me everything but the answer...

It was about choosing a career.i wondered out aloud about how ppl decide what they want to be?How Varun wanted to go into business?,how Aashish knew his calling was in movies?,How Jayanth decided to go do an MS?How he wanted to be this, how they wanted to be that...abt how ppl become wht they have become professionally!.Picasso loved to draw,i do too, but does it mean all who like drawing must be artists? I like physics,so did Einstein,Heisenberg, or for that matter even Rakhal...so does it mean i have to be a scientist?
i wondered why somebody must be something...why doesn't life have no other choice abt this!

A pause,a sigh..and glittering black eyes......blank!

I went on for some more time... poured out my heart and all its sweet, red blood on the table and she stared right into me...maybe she was searching for a brain in there...for all my energy that went into telling her, she finally looked at me...softly (surely her search had yielded nothing!)

I thought yes! now was the moment...oh i loved her...her eyes wandered searching for words...somewhere her lips quivered..there were words that rose behind them...my search for an answer had come to long and far..and now i had an answer!!.I gently played on a rose petal..I mentally cleaned all blood shed I had caused...I waited through those long seconds that refused to pass away..

"There are many questions", I had once been told," in life that none can answer, but me...!".
Well, if cud answer them myself, why are they still questions to me? I finally had my thing,I had divined things out of her mind...now she was doing it...wow!

Oh yes!!, thats her stirring...I looked up! Her eyes looked at me...as still as a moonless night...
"Niki..." (how sweet of u, u call me so lovingly")
"..I..."(thnx a lot,Ur great Nats!)
"...I think..." finally she sat up...she smoothed my hair
"...we should maybe have dinner!"
.
.
.
.

2007-02-22T06:21:00.000-05:00

its been quite some time i dropped into Blog..No no big reasons whatsoever.Just plain lazy that s all.And then its rather hard to write crap so frequently!
i was wondering about what to pt into this today. I had so many ideas now that I'm finally in front of a comp it all just melted into the thin air!